I tamp down my anger by taking a long swig of my beer, reminding myself that I’m in no position to question his motives. He has all the authority, all the power. I’m an Enforcer. I follow his fucking rules. Surely he will follow his own.
“Listen up!” he calls out, his deep voice gaining the attention of everyone in the room. “In case you haven’t been introduced to our guest, this is Skylar Baker. She is Hunter’s sister, and I do not need to fucking remind you assholes of the damn rules.”
The patch pussies don’t seem to mind — less competition for them — but a few groans ripple throughout the room, the men obviously not too happy about having to keep their hands off of Skylar. I know the fucking feeling.
“Skylar is a nurse and recently left her job to come here. Seeing as Doc has been looking for an assistant, I offered the position to her.” What the actual fuck? “Get back to whatever the fuck it was you were doing. Announcement is over.”
Mason looks down to Skylar, and I hear him tell her he’ll show her to the makeshift clinic we have, which is really nothing more than a glorified storage building out back. His hand drifts down to her lower back as he leads her out of the clubhouse.
“You think that’s a smart idea?” I ask Hunter when he approaches the bar, my eyes still on the door. “Thought you wanted her out of here as soon as possible.”
“I’m still getting her out of here, but she needs work,” he replies. “She was fucking itching to get back to Brewton and rent some damn low-income apartment or some shit. She would’ve been in a fucking trailer park if I hadn’t done something, man. At least this way I can keep an eye on her.”
“Yeah, you and every other Royal Bastard in here,” I say, half-joking. “Mason is practically drooling over her.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous, Jake,” Hunter accuses, his eyes narrowing at me.
“I’m not fucking jealous. I don’t want her around here any more than you do, which is why I can’t fathom why the fuck you’d give her a damn job with us.”
“I need to keep her safe,” he explains. “I don’t know what the fuck my old man was doing with the money I sent him, but he sure as hell wasn’t paying bills with it. If he owes someone money, they’ll be coming for it, and I’m not going to be caught off guard. I can’t post a man with her in Brewton and expect her to be protected.”
“Are you sure she can handle working for the club? Doc doesn’t exactly run a legal practice. He works out of a storage building for fuck’s sake.”
“He’s a licensed practitioner, and everything about his clinic is legit,” he reminds me.
“Yeah, especially when he’s digging out bullets and stitching up knife wounds.”
He rolls his eyes. “Skylar won’t be part of that. She’ll do the daytime chores. The checkups for the family members and shit like that.”
“She’s not a fucking idiot, Hunter. You can’t expect her to work here and not find out what it is we really do. If you don’t want her to know, you need to figure out something else for her.”
“The Doc will handle the club shit. I don’t know another way to keep her safe,” he admits. “Promise me you’ll help me look after her. You’re the only one I really trust with her.”
I swallow at his admission. “Of course, man. Always.”
He pats my back and gets up, heading over to play a game of pool. I sit there, unable to finish off my beer from the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Him asking me to look after Skylar was like a punch to the gut.
My best friend has no idea how badly I’ve already betrayed him. Even worse, he has no idea how badly I want to betray this club and say fuck the rules.
Charles Mason, who I have learned is the president of the club Hunter and Jake are in, leads me outside and around back to a large storage building. His hand stays resting on my lower back as we walk together.
“This is our clinic,” he informs me. “Dr. Henson, who we call Doc, runs this clinic Monday through Friday from eight to three. He’s been looking for an assistant, so it’s good timing that Hunter brought you here.”
“Is this a legitimate clinic?” I ask as he opens the door and turns on the light.
He chuckles and answers, “Absolutely. Doc is a licensed practitioner and has a proper Alabama business license to run this place.”
He points to the wall, and I see his licenses hung there. There is a small check-in desk at the door and three curtained rooms for treatment. The place appears to be properly stocked with medical supplies and equipment, but it’s a small clinic, so there are no X-ray machines or scanning devices. It is, after all, a storage building.
“The hospital is nearby should a patient need to be transported,” Mason explains. “The clinic is mainly for checkups and minor scrapes and illnesses for the club members and family.”
“Are there a lot of members?”
“Enough to keep the clinic open,” he answers vaguely.
“What does the club do? I saw some of them with construction gear on.”
He shrugs. “We do construction and a few other odd jobs here and there.”
Again with the vague answers. I’m definitely not surprised, though. My brother didn’t even tell me he was joining this club when he left town. He kept that from me for a reason. This clinic might be legit, but what kind of people need their own medical clinic? Sounds like a fucking cult or something.
“You mentioned rules back there. What rules?” I ask, walking around the room and opening cabinets.
“The club has rules regarding family members,” he replies.
I wait patiently for him to continue, but when he doesn’t explain further, I say, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand, and I don’t want to break the rules or cause some of your men to break the rules.”
“My men won’t break the rules,” he assures me. “You’re Hunter’s sister. Therefore, you are off-limits.”
“Meaning, your men can’t date me?”
He nods. “They aren’t supposed to even think about dating you, Skylar.”
I frown a little. “What happens if they break the rules?”
He laughs. “My men won’t break the rules.”
Now I see why Jake was so adamant that I quiet down. It wasn’t only Hunter hearing me that he was worried about. It was everyone. I don’t even want to ask what it would mean if they were to find out he already broke the rules. Does it count that he broke the rules before he was a member?
“And what about you?” I ask, only realizing it sounds like I’m flirting after it comes out of my mouth.
“I made the rules,” he replies cockily.
I can’t tell if that means he has to abide by them, or they don’t apply to him. It doesn’t really matter. I’m not interested in any of the Royal Bastards, Jake Presley included. The only thing I’m interested in is making enough money in this clinic so that I can leave. I hate the fact that I’m even taking a job from them, but I’m desperate. Even low-income apartments have deposits to be made and rent to be paid.